


Seven Days To A Million

by mirqueen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The week leading up to Oliver and Felicity’s wedding reveals a little discord, a little rebellion, and a lot of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Days To A Million

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_. It belongs to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: A drabble based on a prompt from  _msfelicitysmoak_. Established Olicity, of course. I don’t even know what the rest of the relationships are all doing in this fic, but it came out this way. This isn’t the wedding yet, but for some reason I always have to write the buildup. :P

> **Chapter 1: Plans**

When dealing with Moira and Thea Queen, it didn’t take long for Felicity to realize she was out of her depth entirely.

They were both insistent, hard-headed, strong-willed, slightly manipulative, bold, vaguely self-righteous, and they had such a command over their individual speech that anyone less well-spoken (or  _quick_ -spoken, at least) would feel inadequate in comparison. Mother and daughter knew what they wanted, how to get it, when to get it, and who to get it from.

One week before the wedding, Felicity stood in the middle of her apartment filled with wedding gear, stationery, seating charts, menus, garden designs, and a  _million_  other things — and all she could feel was despondency. She agreed under intense pressure and sure-footed coercion to a venue she thought too public, a theme far too ostentatious and “old money” for her taste, guests she had never even met (and didn’t want to), hairstyles she would never wear under any circumstances of her own making, and a pair of boring white heels that barely matched the style of a barbarically modern, plain white dress she didn’t like in the first place.

Sighing quietly at the mess of stuff her future mother-in-law had left on the dining room table for her to examine, Felicity deliberately turned away and headed into her bedroom to get away from the plans she wished were different. Her apartment was mostly bare-bones now; her less necessary things had gone into storage at the Queen mansion until she moved in after the honeymoon.

Felicity felt lucky Oliver had at least finagled  _that_  away from his mother and sister.

The location and plans were a secret for the time being, and as much as Felicity itched to know, to solve the mystery, her soon-to-be husband practically begged her not to. When Oliver begged, Felicity rarely said no. Mainly because her fiancé’s begging was usually a sign of wonderful surprises she would never regret.

Smiling over the changes wrought in Oliver Queen since the day he had brought her a bullet-ridden laptop, Felicity tried to let the thought override her disappointment in wedding planning.

Regrettably, the task became too difficult when every good memory of her journey with Oliver reminded her of some innocuous detail of wedding planning Moira had left her to do.

"Troubles?"

Whipping around in shock, taser from the nightstand grasped in her fingers on instinct, Felicity gasped in relief and surprise to find Sara Lance in full Black Canary gear on the fire escape outside her half-open window.

"What are you doing here?" Felicity asked the other blonde, flipping the safety of the taser and setting it back down.

"Oliver said you needed a friend," Sara shrugged, a half-smile on her face. "Preferably one not connected to the wedding plans."

Laughing a bit sadly, Felicity smiled slightly at Oliver’s quiet understanding and the unspoken bond of friendship that had formed between her and Sara ever since they’d worked to defeat Nyssa al Ghul.

"That bad?" Sara asked, chuckling a bit and climbing inside. Only once she had closed the blinds and curtains did the other woman take off her mask and wig, and set the bo-staff against the wall.

"Yeah, I guess so," Felicity sighed heavily, slouching in on herself.

"Why haven’t you told them what’s what?" Sara wondered bluntly while removing her gloves and unlacing her boots. "You’re not the kind of woman who lets people walk all over you. Even your fiancé’s obnoxiously controlling family."

"I don’t know," Felicity sighed again, running a hand through her loose, messy hair. and leaving it there. "It’s like I can’t say no. Moira always intimidated me, from the moment I was hired. She was actually there the day I had my interview and I… bumped into her on the way out of the office. Spilled coffee all over us both and nearly landed on my backside trying to get out of the way. It could have gone worse I suppose, but…"

Sara was already laughing — genuinely, as she had begun to do under Felicity’s humorous wings.

"Think she remembers that?"

"Oh, I doubt it," Felicity shook her head. "I was my natural brunette self at the time and she was running in to see her husband about another escapade of Oliver’s."

"It still amazes me how much you let his wild, lurid past fade into the background," Sara shook her head. "Laurel would never be able to let it go. Not like you do."

"She still doesn’t know the real him," Felicity sighed once again. "I think when Donner isn’t with her, and there’s no one else around, she allows herself to romanticize the past. When Oliver the responsible businessman was just Ollie the irresponsible boyfriend. Before Tommy died and… even before…"

"Before Oliver and I cheated," Sara spoke plainly, but a touch sadly. "Yeah, I know. Laurel has a hard time letting go of the past. That’s why she’s never really forgiven our mom for leaving or our dad for drinking his sorrows away. And we won’t even get into my end of that situation."

"I still say she would love to know you’re alive," Felicity stated calmly. "You’re her sister, after all, and she loves you in spite of what happened. She still mourns you."

"Yeah, well, not happening," Sara murmured with finality and resignation. Giving up for the moment, Felicity watched as Sara rummaged through the dresser to borrow some clothes. They had long since stopped asking permission to borrow each other’s things (regardless the fact Sara didn’t have much to be borrowed).

In many ways, Felicity felt like they were sisters of a sort. Not a replacement by any means for the lost, hurting sister Sara already had, but it was the only real way to describe their relationship. Felicity could not really say Sara was her best friend. That title was reserved for Oliver and Diggle, even after all this time, and Felicity didn’t regret that by any stretch of the imagination. After all they had been through, the two main men in her life knew her better than anyone else could. Especially Oliver, but of course her future husband  _should_  know her that well.

This pondering unfortunately brought back the matter of the wedding, and Felicity groaned out loud, flopping back on the bed. A minute later, Sara came to sit cross-legged beside her, now dressed in a long-sleeve t-shirt and yoga pants.

"You should have told Oliver months ago," the other blonde told her firmly, leaving no room for argument. "He wants this to be special for both of you. If you don’t like it, he’ll think it’s his fault."

Huffing, but knowing it was true, Felicity rolled onto her side facing Sara. “What do I do? I don’t want to offend Moira and Thea or make them think I’m ungrateful… And I don’t want them to think I’m in it just for the price tags or… to make a scene with my loud, creative wedding ideas.”

"If they don’t know you better than that by this point," Sara interceded with a roll of her eyes, "you better just go on and let it pass for the rest of your existence."

"Ugh," Felicity groused irritably. "I guess I’m afraid to be… caught out, too. As a phony who can’t fit into this world of theirs. It would make the family look bad and Oliver definitely doesn’t need that anymore. Not now that he’s pulled the company back by the skin of his teeth."

"Now I know why he asked me to drop by," Sara muttered darkly, leaning over to smack Felicity on the arm.

"Ow!" Felicity whined, scowling at her so-called friend and smacking her back a little harder than necessary. "What was  _that_  for?”

"To remind you it’s okay to fight back," Sara retorted instantly. "If things are peaceful all the time, you forget what you’re fighting for. And you have a _lot_  to keep fighting for.”

"Where is all this coming from, Sara?" Felicity asked agitatedly, glaring now.

"Oliver’s worried you’re losing yourself," the blonde shot back quickly. "Letting people mow you down just to avoid conflict. You haven’t been out in the field for months, haven’t even  _asked_  to go, not even when a case could probably have used it. And while I can tell Oliver is pleased you’re not getting hurt or scared, he also thinks there’s something bothering you. But every time he asks, you wall up. Like he used to do. That bugs him. Because he knows how it eats away at you and breaks down your joy.”

"I don’t wall up!" Felicity argued heatedly, throwing herself upwards to face the other woman. "There’s nothing to talk about."

So saying, the IT expert stood from the bed and stalked out to the wedding planning Moira had left. Without a word for her companion, Felicity began to work through the details of a particularly confusing floral selection she had to give an opinion on the next day.

Although she doubted it would be useful. Moira often found another idea that she said worked better in the end.

Frowning, Felicity couldn’t help thinking over the amount of opinions she had been asked for, that had been overlooked in that same way. Several of which Oliver had even questioned, but Felicity had let them all slide.

Sara had said Felicity wasn’t the type to back down, and she was right. Yet ever since Moira and Thea had started helping with the wedding plans, Felicity had backed down more than she had in the entirety of her career at Queen Consolidated.

But why?

For the sake of peace with her future in-laws?

Yes, she admitted to herself. To avoid alienating the people who were soon to be  _family_. The one thing she had never really had in any close, loving way.

Slumping as the realization washed over her, the blonde let the papers in her hand drop to the dining table.

"Getting it, yet?" came Sara’s gentle voice from beside the table. the crime-fighter’s hand came to rest on Felicity’s shoulder, the latter looking up to her friend with questions in her confused eyes.

"You’re not fighting for yourself, Felicity," Sara reminded her kindly. "Oliver knows this wedding isn’t what you really wanted it to be. He had all kinds of ideas he thought you’d like. Bright colors and lace and quirky flowers… Just the people you’re closest to in attendance… And then you didn’t even seem to care  _what_  it was like.”

"Does he think that?" Felicity asked worriedly.

"Not exactly," Sara shrugged. "But if you let this wedding go by just as Moira and Thea plan it… he might come to that conclusion. He just doesn’t understand why you’ve lost that independence you’ve always had. I think it scares him that you’re just giving in now."

"I need to talk to him," Felicity murmured anxiously, standing abruptly from the table and scanning the room for her purse beneath the clutter.

"He’s at the club, waiting for you," Sara informed the IT expert helpfully, a tiny smile on her face.

Felicity stopped in the middle of the room, turning to stare suspiciously at her friend. “Oliver didn’t tell you any of that, did he?”

Smiling a little wider still, Sara shrugged again, “I understand Oliver pretty well by now. I can tell when he’s scared, worried, angry… And I know Moira and Thea all too well. They like to monopolize dress designs in particular.”

"I’m going to kill Diggle," Felicity stated with adverse calm, bringing a full laugh out of Sara.

"How did you figure it out?" she wondered curiously.

"Only John knew about them monopolizing the dress designs," Felicity rolled her eyes, but picked up her outerwear and purse anyway.

"Tell Oliver ‘you’re welcome’ for me," Sara called after Felicity as the latter headed out the door.

"Goodbye, Sara," Felicity responded with a tone that said she would do no such thing, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

* * *

 


End file.
